


I Met A Boy In A Bar Last Night, He Smiled...

by cheesehunter



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Happy, Happy Ending, High School, Love, M/M, Romance, Smut, bet, dumb, really really dumb and cliché, rom com-like, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 16:54:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesehunter/pseuds/cheesehunter
Summary: Pete, the fuckboy, needs to make Patrick fall for him in under a week for a bet he has with his friends. He's cool, popular, very stupid and very horny. Patrick's nerdy, an outcast... and a lot more of a weirdo than you'd think...---Really dumb, cutesy and rom com-like, with a major twist I've never seen in rom coms, though...---This is the introduction to a series that I'll (probably) be working on, so if you were looking for a quick fic before you go to bed, cute and COMPLETED, keep scrollin', this ain't it.





	1. In Which We Get To Know The Characters And I Struggled To Make It Enough Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a reaaaaal stupid story, cutesy and fluffy because I always write sad stuff so I vow to try not to make anyone sad with this one. Much love to anyone who wastes their time reading this, hope I can get a smile out of you!! Don't hesitate to let me know if I did by wasting an additional 4 seconds to write me a comment :)

Warm Sunday evenings at the end of the school year are Pete’s new favourite time. It felt weird being at the end of his high school career, it felt weird knowing next year would be college and most of his high school friends would be far away, maybe they wouldn’t even be friends anymore. All that didn’t matter now though, since they were drinking, talking, chilling at Joe’s, one of his besties. They could’ve been doing dumb stuff, they spent most of their time doing just that, but they weren’t, they were actually talking about girls (and in his case, girls and boys). Girls they’d dated, girls they’d love to date, girls with big, small, medium cup sizes, charming smiles, charming brains.. Okay, no, brains don’t matter all that much when the goal is to screw as many as possible. It’s no secret, Pete and his hundred buddies (they weren’t that many, just five, occasionally six when Brendon came around, but it was mainly Dirty, Joe, Andy, Chris and he) were the fuckboys, the cool guys who still made notches on their bedpost for each sweetheart they could pin down. Girls loved getting tied up into that too, it’s a big myth that they don’t enjoy sex, and an even bigger one that there’s no fuckgirls. For example, Talia, a beautiful blonde with green eyes, had fucked every single one of them, and screwed with their heads a little too. No biggie, life goes on and no one in their friend group ever got too hung up over an ex.  
  
Between nasty, piss-tasting beer sips and a few bites of burnt hamburger, the subject switched from girls they’d dated to prom dates. Andy declared he’d ask Sandra out, one bad ass motherfucker. Half the people at their school believed firmly she had breast implants and the other half was too busy looking at her outlandish goth make up to notice her huge tits. Legend says she’d only ever loved one person and they’d almost killed each other during a freaky session involving blood and summoning Satan.  
  
“No way, she won’t say yes.” Joe chuckled, shaking his head.  
  
“She will.” Andy responded, “We’ve been having our little F.W.B thing for the past year, Joe, she totally will.”  
  
“She’s not into you. I doubt she’ll even show up to prom.” Dirty argued, shaking his head.  
  
“Yeah man, don’t even try, you’re gonna get rejected sooooo hard… Unless you can give her that one bat Ozzy chomped on.” Pete responded with a light laugh.  
  
“You can’t say anything Pete, who are you gonna take to prom now that he dumped you.” The most metalhead out of all of them said, playing with his labret.  
  
“Asshole!! We weren’t even a thing! Like, yeah, he was hot and all--”  
  
“Really hot.” Joe provided.  
  
“Like, you totally gave him heart eyes every time he stepped in the room.” Dirty added.  
  
“Screw you guys.”  
  
“Twenty dollars if you take Patrick Stump to prom.” Andy said, a glint of evil in his eyes.  
  
“Patrick Stump, the weirdo that’s weirdo #2’s friend?” Pete asked, puzzled.  
  
“Hey! Don’t call Brendon’s boytoy that! Ryan’s nice.” Trohman defended, shaking his head. There was a little smile on his lips too. Ryan and Brendon were just such an interesting conversational topic, when neither of them was around. Brendon was just a couple years younger than them, so naturally, he ended up being the little pet of the gang. They weren’t mean to him, but let’s just say he had to run errands a lot to stay “hip” within the group, and ever since Ryan had moved and ended up at their school, he was so dedicated in keeping his reputation sparkling clean. Though he hung out with the fuckboys, he was invested in letting everyone know he was a sensitive, romantic boy, much like Ryan, coincidentally.  
  
“He eats flowers, Joe, flowers. I’ve fucking seen him! You know the yellow ones that aren’t dandelions? He sticks them IN his mouth and CHEWS!! Like, what a fucking weirdo, he’s like--”  
  
“Yeah Pete, weirdo #2’s friend Patrick Stump.” Andy interrupted. Every time Ryan’s case came up, Pete alllllllways said the same thing, and though it was true, it was getting a little bit tiring to hear it.  
  
“Make it fourty.” Pete responded, a challenging look in his eyes.  
  
“Cool, you got your deal, fourty dollars if you take Patrick to prom. He’s got to fall for you though, like, he’s got to be in love with you.”  
  
“Joe, man, I have one week, not my whole life, asshole.”  
  
“Well, he’s probably never been called pretty before, it’s gonna be super easy! Just compliment him a couple times, show some interest.. I’m sure he’ll fall in like two days, not even.”  
  
“Whatever, you can’t even… Like, you’d have no way to know.”  
  
“Psh, I’ll get Brendon to ask Ryan who’ll ask Patrick. Bonus twenty if you screw him.”  
  
Pete shook his head. “You guys are fucked up. But sixty dollars is sixty dollars.”  
  
They continued drinking piss beer for the rest of the night, eventually falling asleep on an episode of Brooklyn 99, that just kept getting funnier with every sip..


	2. Things Happen

Patrick. Strawberry blonde pixie disaster, his hair. He and Ryan had a similar style, their worn out shoes sliding and squeaking over the linoleum that made up the high school’s floor. Patrick was a little more sophisticated than Ryan, who perpetually seemed to pull out his looks out of a “How to look like John Lennon for noobies”. To be fair, Ryan looked more like Jim Morrison, boy had the same haircut, a strong jaw... But not that much of a bad attitude. 

The blonde walked his way to his next class, his only friend walking by his side. They entered the class and quietly sat at the back, Patrick playing with the knot on his light brown scarf and adjusting his glasses on his nose as he waited for the bell to ring and Ryan scribbling little words in a tiny notebook. 

The teacher cleared her throat, signifying she’d soon start talking, and so both guys raised their gaze to listen and watch attentively as she explained. Pete and Joe stumbled into the class after about ten minutes, giggling softly and taking their usual spots. History always involved a lot of note taking, so Patrick wasn’t surprised when Pete, who’d showed up empty-handed turned around to ask someone for a pen. What did surprise him is that the dark haired guy asked him, of all people. 

“Do you have like, something to write with?”  
The strawberry blonde boy turned a soft shade of pink, like azaleas or carnations. People rarely talked to him, he’d just moved in and the humans his age considered him too weird, so whenever someone other than Ryan adressed him a word or two, or in this case, eight, he got awkward. His cyan eyes met hot whiskey.

“Uh, yeah, yeah I do, actually.” Patrick stuttered out, his palid fingers going through his grass green, nature friendly, biodegradable bag. “Here.” 

Pete smiled, the sun reflecting on his teeth as he reached for the pen. “Thank you, pretty boy.”

The flowers bloomed on Patrick’s cheek and he just wanted to hide his face. How could he be so dumb that two simple words could make his heart stutter. Patrick forced himself to maintain eye contact, though, “You’re welcome, Pete.” He responded, his voice light and soft, with somewhat of an accent.

It later came to his mind that that might be the first and last time he’d get to talk to Pete Wentz, too caught up making everyone fall for him to notice a nice thing like Patrick, but that didn’t really matter. At the end of the day, he still had Ryan and his little succulents to keep him company. 

xxx

“I tell you, this is gonna be so easy.” was Pete’s first comment when Andy joined Joe and he who were walking towards the exit, shaking his head and chuckling easily. “I asked him for a pen and he blushed, imagine craving attention that bad. AND he uses glitter pens. What’s this, pre-school?”

“That’s funny, you saying that.” Andy ran his fingers through his hair. “I guess it takes one to know one, right?”

“One what?” 

“Attention whore.”

“Oh, please, I’m not that bad.”

“You called him every day.”

“The phone sex was amazing.” Pete replied with a pout, refusing to acknowledge the facts Andy was spitting out at him.

Guy wasn’t bad, Andy, he was just.. Too nosy. Joe wasn’t like that, and though people in general made fun of him about his.. thing.. with his previous boyfriend, they didn’t harass him like Andy did. 

Joe and he sat on the graffitied cement wall behind the dumpsters and Andy took a seat right in front of them. They could’ve been doing math, but the puff puff pass was much more fun. Not Andy, he didn’t take part in their trips anymore.

They ended up just as happy as earlier, Andy adressing them a gentle smile. “Okay guys, put it out now, you’ve got thirty minutes to sober up.”

“What are they gonna do if we don’t? Fuckin’ send us back home?” Joe giggled.

“C’mon Troh, man, we can’t flunk this year.” Pete responded, matching his giddy tone with a dopey smile.   
xxx

Patrick’s next class was phys ed. He shivered just at the thought of it, his body tensing up with spite. The echo in that gym was terrible, someone could whisper in it and from one angle it’d seem like they’re yelling and from a slightly different one you just don’t hear shit, so everyone was always screaming, everyone and everything was loud and harsh. He changed into his sports clothes in a bathroom stall and only came out to shove his other clothes into his locker and slam it shut. 

He knew this wasn’t going to be a fun hour when he saw the basket balls, tensing up as one flew right past him at about a hundred miles an hour. Of course, Pete would be relaxed, joking around with his friends, antithesis of him, a real bundle of nerves, poke one and he’ll probably just run away.

For some reason, he wasn’t the last one to be picked today, contrarily to usual, when the teams were made. In fact, he was the first one, and he was in Pete’s team. 

“Payback for the pen.” Pete declared with the same smile as earlier, winking. “Wouldn’t want to owe something to a pretty boy like you.” 

The strawberry blonde hated this. Surely, Pete had to be making fun of him, somehow. It was too good to be true, no one ever talked to him and it’s not just by lending this guy a pen that that would change. And the worst part is, Pete was pretty, Pete had abs and sculpted biceps and a handsome face and-- ‘Shit, don’t let him catch you staring.’ Patrick scolded himself internally. 

When Pete offered him a low five at the end of the match though, Patrick almost puffed his chest out. Keyword; almost. 

Then, he hurried up to pick his clothes up and scurried back in his stall to change back into his regular tee and his worn out jeans. They were starting to have holes in them, but out of respect for the environment, Patrick only had three and would use them until they were basically done. 

As he was trying to escape the hoard of teenagers that would surely be chatting in front of the door like idiots in 0.5 seconds, Patrick was intercepted by a pair of warm brown eyes. 

“Hey, pretty boy, do you still have that pen I borrowed? I need it, but just three secs, please, it’s really important.”

“Oh, uh, sure, here you go...” Patrick responded, weirded out.

“Thanks, would you be so kind to give me your number also?” Pete said with a disarming grin, not taking the pen from Patrick’s hand but rather offering his arm as a writing surface.


	3. “Who The Fuck Is Pete Wentz”, “I’m Desperate For Attention” And Other Common Phrases

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i havent even proofread this. enjoy anyway. :) love u guys thanks for stickin' around

A roar of laughter welcomed Pete as he joined his friends in front of the school’s doors. He smiled and shook his head, “No luck.” was his verdict, trying to get himself out of the embarassing situation.

 

“Oh man, what’d you tell him? It was like you asked for his virginity.” Andy asked, chuckling.

 

“I just asked for his number!” Pete promised, laughing along, his arms wrapping around his belly.

 

“Yeah right!”

Pete caught, from the corner of his eye, the shadow of a grass green bag. He let it pass.

 

When the dark haired boy got home, the tulips had already tucked themselves in, the moon was up high and everything was as quiet as he’d left it. The keys rattled as he unlocked the door, pushing it open. Soon enough, he was sleeping too, dreaming of the way to charm the sweet boy and get his sixty dollars.

 

Xxx

 

“Yeah Anton, I know.” Patrick spoke almost quietly, his skin almost reflecting the moonlight that filtered through his shades. His hand went to stroke the ceramic pot into which Anton had grown, a pretty Haworthia, arms always up, always reaching for the sky.

 

Xxx

 

Morning classes are the worst because everyone’s half asleep... Or, they’re the best, because everyone is half asleep. Depends what you consider to be good. That day, nature had decided the sky would look prettier with some clouds and the pavement nicer with some droplets of water, so it went ahead and painted life of greys. Pete’s ripped light blue jeans were already darker with the water falling from the world’s ceiling as he stepped into the bus, shoving his keys into his jacket along with his reddened, ice cold fingers. He shivered and let himself fall onto a seat after sliding a few coins into the little box at the front, watching as the world went by.

 

Outside, people laughed, smiled, cried, they seemed full of life. His eyes turned back to his backpack and he spent his ride wondering how he’d make Patrick go on a date with him if he couldn’t even get his number, and then again, was it really necessary?

 

Xxx

 

Patrick’s morning started with art, one of his favourites. He was currently working on this piece he’d called “Momentum”. Ryan, he, was working on a very different thing, a beautiful story painted in rough lines and soft tones. It was all warm and pastel colors, and Patrick could figure out why. They thought they were really subtle, but he saw everything. The way Ryan’s body twisted to watch Brendon like a sunflower when the sun goes down each time he stepped into the room... The tension could be measured in milliseconds between them, syllabs that were drawn out way too long and short breaths. It was beautiful, if Patrick’s ever seen a beautiful thing. He wasn’t scared. In fact, as he laid bright orange onto his paper, he almost wanted to tell Ryan not to be either. Brendon was willing to walk the tight rope just to get to him, and he was an excellent equilibrist, so Ryan shouldn’t fear. He’d get his romance.

 

As the sunrays started making their way through the clouds, the day went on, and soon, it was lunch. Though lunch was loud and generally displeasing, Patrick could stand it, as long as he could run away to the library as soon as he was done eating. Today, Ryan was perched on Brendon’s lap, the other guy’s arms wrapped around his waist in what seemed to be a very comforting way and Patrick couldn’t take his eyes off them, a dreamy smile upon his lips.

 

“So, is it official?”

 

Brendon’s eyes practically popped out of his skull, “Well, actually--” He started, but he was stopped when Ryan’s delicate voice interrupted with a “Yeah.” and then, looking at the younger guy, “Yeah?”.

 

Brendon smiled really wide, nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah.”

 

Ryan left a little kiss upon the boy’s cheek, sighing softly.

 

The run for the books came with a weird sort of relief along with some longing Patrick had never felt before. No one ever accompanied him to the library. Most of the times, he was alone in it too, reading books no one took any interest in. Today, someone had taken his usual spot. He didn’t mind, he could always take another one, but as he walked his way to the shelves, Patrick was surprised by a tap on his shoulder.

 

“Hey, Patrick.. You’re Patrick, right?” Pete asked.

 

“Uh, yeah?”

 

“I don’t think we started off the right way, I guess it was a little over fast when I asked for your number, it’s just.. You’re really pretty and.. I don’t know, I just wanted to take you out. On a date. With me.”

 

“O-oh, yeah.. Sure.” Patrick replied with a little smile, “I reacted weird too, like, I was just, surprised. You know, people don’t usually...”

 

“Yeah, I don’t get why. You’re beautiful and.. so unique.” Pete added one of his trademark smiles and Patrick couldn’t resist, he returned the smile.

 

“Thank you.. Pete.. you’re really pretty too but I don’t need to tell you, do I?” He responded and Pete laughed softly, scratching the back of his neck.

 

“Well, a little attention is always appreciated. So, will you go out with me, say... Tomorrow?”

 

While Patrick felt like things were moving too fast, he didn’t know much about dating and the idea of having something tomorrow to fill up his free time was charming in itself.

 

“Sure, where?”

 

“There’s a place I know, trust me, you’ll like it..” He replied with a sure-of-himself smile, as if he were stating facts instead of his opinion. Patrick liked that.”Sooooo..... can I get your number?”

 


	4. In The Car, I Just Can't Wait...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is, very trashy and very rushed. rip.

A blur, that’s what the day was. English class, check, maths, check, phys ed.. Shit, phys ed. It’s like the strawberry blond beauty was doing every possible thing to make him feel, and Pete’s human, alright? And maybe, only maybe, those denim blue eyes had more effect on him than he’d like to admit, and the rosy color Patrick’s cheeks adopted when he did exercise, and his mussed up hair, his parted lips, his sinful, plump, kissable parted lips, Pete just couldn’t. 

Between the end of phys ed and beginning of recess, Pete slid into a bathroom stall, typing in his ex’s phone number.

Xxx

Patrick’s day went by pretty fast, he just couldn’t wait for the evening and his date with Pete. Though he wasn’t fluent in this whole dating thing, he wasn’t nervous either. In fact, he was pretty confident. He simply followed the motion when he got dragged by the wrist by a seemingly very happy Pete. 

They’d decided on the time on the phone the previous day and talking to Pete on the phone was... Something. Talking on the phone in itself is always weird and awkward because without the whole physical aspect of communication, it’s harder to guess what the other’s thinking, but with Pete, the pauses seemed longer, the silences quieter and his voice was pure distilled mead. Patrick would die to surround himself with it-- every little hint of sweetness, every purr --as if it was calculated to a decimal to make him fall for the guy.

Pete, like a real gentleman, got Patrick a coffee and some cake. As for himself, he ordered possibly the sweetest thing on the menu, topped with bunches of whipped cream and chocolate syrup.

“So, Pete, what made you decide to take me out when we’d never really talked before? What made you suddenly decide I was, quote unquote, beautiful and unique? Oh and, is this a date?” Patrick asked, genuinely curious, leaning on his palms.

The dark haired boy blushed a little, almost choking on the cream. Think fast. “W-well, it was the.. glitter pen. And yea, I guess you could call it a date.” Pete responded, quickly saving face with a confident smirk.

“The glitter pen... Typical..” The blond wasn’t buying it. “You know you’ve pretty much payed off whatever debt you hallucinated about having when you smiled at me for the first time?” 

Pete’s eyebrows raised, if only very slightly. He found himself at a loss for words. Patrick was.. Damn good at this little game. “A-ah well... It’s for next time I owe you something.” He winked.

Their conversation slowly drifted off into music, politics, arts, ideals... Before they realized, it was already seven and they both had to go home, inevitably. Well no, they didn’t have to, but Pete knew you need to make people like you gradually. If they don’t have to work to get things from you, it’ll be no fun and they’ll lose interest. However, if you show a little, keep them waiting, wishing, imagining... Then show some more, then you’ll keep their attention until the very end. Or, in this case, until you pop their cherry.

What he wasn’t counting on, though, was that when they were about to part ways, Patrick leaned closer to him, whispering into his ear; “ Next time you owe me something, you can pay me in nature.” 

Now, Pete’s immediate thought wasn’t how this would make his task so much easier, it wasn’t even about how he’d spend his $60... Oh no... His first thought was what got him to find sleep that night. He died a little.

Patrick went back home with a spring to his step and an unfaltering smile on his face, his heart thumping with renewed fervor inside his chest. He loved how he’d had an effect on the fuckboy, even though it was most likely not the first nor the last time someone had said something like that to him. He cherished the look of surprise on Pete’s face.. 

“Oh Anton..” He sighed softly, watering his plants. “I’ve never had so much fun.”

Before starting his homework, he rung Ryan up, who ended up showing up at his door. Naturally, the chit chat was mainly focused around Brendon and Pete. Ryan insisted on making the distinction, whenever Patrick just called them “the fuckboys”, because, of course, Brendon’s delicate and romantic and blah blah blah.. Patrick didn’t believe a word, but whatever, if it makes his friend happy. He asked himself if he had any chances to ever be Pete’s boyfriend and then decided he’d rather not think about the possibilities right now. 

Xxx

“I took him on a date!!” Pete had texted Joe right before going to sleep. “He’s cute.”


	5. It’s About Time I Published This Chapter, “I know exactly what goes on” and etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was about time i published this. I haven't given up, just,,, I'm lazy. Okaaaaay enjoy. As usual, thanks for reading n all that
> 
> there's smut in this one. a little. like maybe not even 100 words.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom with me.” Pete asked in a whisper, a confident smirk on his lips as he ran his fingertips onto Patrick’s hand.

 

Patrick blushed shyly. “What is it, your date stood you up last minute?”

 

“No! I want to go with you!” Pete defended himself, his answer coming out really choppy.

 

“Sure...” Patrick raised an eyebrow. “But yes, I’d like to go to prom with you.” He added quickly afterwards, a little smile blooming on his face. “Even if it’s just to win some kind of bet or have fucked the nerd or something.”

 

The teacher shushed them and Patrick went back to his work and Pete to asking himself how Patrick could possibly have found out.

 

Xxx

 

The lights were bright and colorful, the bass resonated in every single one of Patrick’s tissues, drums pounding to the beat of his heart. Prom itself was pretty lame but the afterparty sure was something. People all around him were talking loudly and moving with little accuracy, and Pete had left him behind the second he’d seen a cute girl.. Which wasn’t out of character but it’d be a lie to say Patrick hadn’t been a little disappointed. His blow job had been, after all, pretty good. Pete seemed to like it, judging by the bitter aftertaste on Patrick’s tongue.

 

Everything had started with Pete’s hand trailing down his back, not applying any pressure at all. Patrick had pressed back into the contact then, hungry for skin, dying to figure out why humans liked sex so much..

 

“ _If I could have you right now..” Pete whispered into his ear as they danced the slow pressed to each other. “I’d make it the best you’ll ever have. I’d make myself unforgettable.”_

 

_Patrick wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a good thing, he simply nodded slowly, swallowing his saliva. Drunk on the feeling of Pete against him, all his inhibitions flew out the window, his curiosity getting the best of him; “I think I want..”_

 

“ _Of course you do. Everyone does. No shame in that.” Was purred into his ear with the perfect intonation, almost like a script._

 

“ _Please keep going.”_

 

“ _I’d start by marking you, let everyone know I popped your cherry.. Then I’d kiss down your chest, sliding my hands down to your hips, I’d take your pants off, I’d give it to you so good, Patrick, if you knew..”_

 

_Patrick liked the sound of that. He rutted against Pete’s leg somewhat, trying to show him.. Pete understood. He couldn’t help it, the idea of getting laid was rather exciting._

 

_They hadn’t had much trouble sneaking into a stall. Patrick’s hands were like trying to map every inch of Pete’s skin, but Pete didn’t care for preliminaries. He skipped to getting his pants off, pushing them down._

 

“ _Wanna suck me off?”_

 

“ _Yeah, definitely.”_

 

_Pete’s hands had gripped his hair so hard and rough the moment his lips were on the guy’s cock, Patrick couldn’t help the sound that escaped his lips. His jeans rubbed against the sticky floor as he moved, gripping the dark haired guy’s thighs, leaving red crescent moons to bloom on them. Contrarily to the way he was practically pulling the blonde strands out, Pete was gentle with his thrusts once Patrick gave him the permission to fuck his mouth. When he came apart, the blond was left staring up at him looking practically wasted, like he were the one that had just been given the best orgasm of his life. The blue light of the bathroom’s fluorescent reflected softly on his porcelain skin and his eyes were almost glittery then, as Pete pulled him up to kiss him against the stall, where names and quotes had been engraved with switchblades and sharpie. Patrick let out those soft sounds every now and again, and though Pete didn’t usually reciprocate blowjobs, he had the moral obligation to get Patrick off now. He’d have to screw him some other time, maybe later on in the night._

 

_Pete slid his hand down to cup Patrick’s cock, who pushed into the touch wantonly._

 

“ _Does this count as ah--.. Does this count as deflowering?” Patrick had asked with a chuckle and Pete shrugged, too occupied trying to make him cum._

 

“ _If you want it to.”_

 

Fuzz had grown on Patrick’s insides, the couch was a nice addition to his skin for it provided him with warmth, and so did the solo cup between his hands, from which he drank every now and again. He watched the bodies colliding with each other and eyed the clock, telling himself that it couldn’t last much more. He’d just have to find a place to sleep-- the couch-- and then find a way to go home in the morning. Maybe he’d hitchhike. He wasn’t too keen on staying much longer but he knew he couldn’t leave now.

 

As he got up, he realized the world was spinning a lot faster than he’d thought, his gaze going out of focus. Luckily, a pair of arms caught him.

 

“Pete! You’re back!” He exclaimed stupidly as he realized who had caught him, cuddling into the touch against his own better judgement. The beat of the song had increased and so had his heartbeat.

 

“How many drinks have you had, Patrick? Let’s lay you down.”

 

The stroboscope kicked in as the music continued flowing, a feel of unease settling in Patrick’s stomach. Now the bodies were flashing in and out of existence and the world was spinning so quick. He leaned further on Pete, feeling somewhat faint.

 

“I’m not drunk.” He realized, and then repeated “I’m not drunk, we have to go.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” Pete chuckled, “Come on baby, get back on the couch, I can’t just hold you for the rest of the night.”

 

“Pete, we need to go.” Patrick said, trying to find Pete’s face despite the strobe.

 

“But we just started partying, Trick!” Pete argued “Do you really want me to fuck you _that_ badly? Besides, I’m not fucking you if you aren’t sober.”

 

‘Yeah,’ Patrick thought, but shook his head “I’m telling you, I’m barely tipsy! Just listen to me for fuck’s sake! We need to go!” He insisted, pushing Pete away from him in an attempt to prove him he could stand and walk and such very well by himself.

 

The disco ball was spinning madly in the middle of the room, projecting light to every corner, the stroboscope rendering him basically blind, the drums and bass controlling his heartbeat, the people stuck to each other in sweat and want, but the way they danced, uncontrolled, choppy, they danced until they fell out of Patrick’s sight, spinning madly. The walls switched with the ceiling.

 

And then the world went black.

 


	6. This Is Where The Story Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is basically.... heh... this whole thing is an introduction to the ACTUAL fic... yea sorry... bamboozled!! i wasn’t sure if i just wanted to end it there but i’m gonna make it a full length thing... stay tuned(?)

Shades of red and black tainted his vision as his pupils accomodated to the little light in the room. The room? Pete extended his arms but couldn’t unfold them completely for his palms reached a smooth surface. As he looked around in sheer panic, all he could see was an empty room, but he couldn’t step inside it, he was stuck... fuck.. he was stuck. His breathing accelerated and he touched his face realizing there was a mask covering his mouth and nose...

 

Flash.

 

Red ceiling, red walls, red tubes that came out of his arms, a white liquid flowing into his body.

 

 

Flash.

 

Shades of red and black. Little light. No room for moving around.

 

Flash.

 

Needles.

 

Flash.

 

Mask.

 

Flash.

 

“Stay still.” A menacing voice ordered, sounding closer to a robot than to an actual human being. They dug their long, claw-like yellow fingernails into Pete’s flesh, long pink tongue caressing ever so slightly the skin, leaving wet tracks behind. “I’m delighted you’ve awoken, my dear.” They hissed, their horrendous mouth stretching into an unwelcoming grimace, revealing two rows of sharp teeth.

 

Pete tried crawling away from the creature, every hair on his body standing of its own will, but the thing’s grip on him was too powerful and the nails ended up perforing his skin. The thing tutted, strapping the human’s arms down to the chair with leather restraints.

 

“Don’t be afraid, honey, I won’t hurt you more than I have to. Sh..” They said softly, a black membrane stretching quickly over their eyes before retracting itself. “Just behave and everything will go..” The creature flicked a needle with their nails before grabbing Pete’s arm again, digging it in. The dark haired man didn’t feel it, but he was just as terrified and confused. “..Perfectly..”

 

Electricity filled his own body before it felt like he’d been swimming in concrete, it hardening all around his body. His muscles burned, ached, he could not move.

 

“Good. Now, let’s better you.” The creature turned around and walked up to the counter, at which point Pete noticed they were wearing some kind of army jacket. At the back, embroided in a square “Snake | #98”.

 

He shivered when Snake came back with a scalpel, digging it into Pete’s neck with excruciating pain before they slipped something in. “It’s a chip.” Snake explained. “No one’s ever succesfully broken the spell but... Just in case. Oh, he’s gonna love this one. We’re gonna make him work for it, of course. He can’t just walk in and take you home.”

 

“Running your tongue again, Snake? I told them they should’ve cut it short at the first opportunity.” Another voice chimed in, followed by a high-pitched, stacatto giggle. “You’re not paid to tell him what he’s doing here, you’re just paid to prepare him.”

 

xxx

 

Pete could feel his sanity slowly slipping away from him, and not like the times he’d done drugs, oh no, not like when he’d gotten too drunk and could barely get up. It was so much worse. A rewiring of his person. Every detail was well thought out, every detail.

 

He didn’t know how many days or maybe weeks he spent in there, just knew he dreaded it. Every second. It was pain, torture, it was awful, even his bones were sore, like the humidity had infiltrated his skin. Maybe they were rotting inside of him. Can bones rot? He wasn’t quite sure. Flesh can, he had the olfactive confirmation.

 

Every now and again, a beautiful woman would appear. Her skin was grey – that much he knew because when they opened the trap so she could go in, the little light that filtered allowed him to see – and marked with white, a little bit like tattoos. She’d whisper things into his ear, and he’d feel. All sorts of things. Sometimes, it’d be painful and he was left sobbing, but mostly, it was happy things. Things regarding Patrick. How he was so deeply in love with him. How he could never leave his side. How Patrick would take such good care of him once all this was over, so he mustn’t fear what comes next. Sometimes, when he was lucid enough to think, Pete wondered why she said that, why she gave him those hopes. He didn’t get what was going on, but he was so tired.. so.. tired.

Xxx

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Patrick.” Ryan insisted, pacing back and forth in the boy’s apartment.

 

“Yes it _was_. I should’ve been able to save him. And why didn’t they just take me!?”

 

“You know exactly why! You’re blessed, they can’t touch you!”

 

Patrick rolled his eyes, “More like cursed.”

 

“Well fuck! Sucks to be you! Your friend..” “Boyfriend.” “Your boyfriend’s dying in some disgusting cave, rats are probably eating his limbs, what are _you_ doing about it?”

 

Patrick teared up, it seemed to be all he did anymore. “I don’t fucking know where he is, what do you want me to do about it?”

 

Ryan sighed softly, letting his body flop onto the bed. “... Yeah, I know. Come here.” He prompted, opening his arms. Patrick leaned in, hugging him as tight as he could.

 

“Now what?”

 

“Now we wait until they show up again. They probably want some kind of ransom for your boyfriend..”

 

“My life.”

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll just have to outnumber them... We take him, bring him home, they don’t touch you-- they can’t-- and.. Voilà.” Ryan responded, shrugging.

 

“We need to find people.”

 

“Guess we’ll have to go back there then. This guy’s life is in danger, ‘Trick--.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

The sun set behind Anton, illuminating its pricks of orange and yellow. The tiny red flower decorated him then, subtle and delicate, like a halo.


End file.
